Five years ago, my little sister Jennifer was in a car crash on her way home from work. She died instantly. It was three days before her 27th birthday.
Her death was a threshold for me. It was the beginning of a rapid acceleration that kicked my life and the awakening of my gifts into high gear. Eventually, I stopped hoping or waiting for things to slow down and learned to keep up.
More significant family deaths followed. My grandpa Bob nearly departed the same weekend as Jennifer but hung on for another 18 months. Then my grandma Mary, the matriarch of my maternal line, died earlier this year. And, most recently, my bonus grandpa Jim, who transitioned this week.
There were also countless endings and personal deaths during this dark night—initiatory deaths. I let go of people, places, and things that had reached their point of completion. And I witnessed so many former selves go up in flames.
And in the ashes of all of this loss, all of these endings, all of these cycles of life reaching their completion through death, LOVE REMAINS. It's been the only constant. It IS the only constant.
The truth is, I experienced a lot of joy and wonder in death. I feel closer to my sister now than I did when she was alive. And my grandma Mary's death was one of the most awe-inspiring, transcendent moments of my life.
It's an odd thing to experience the joy of connecting with someone's consciousness in Spirit as you sit with the grief of their body's departure from Earth. It's miraculous to be visited by someone's soul as they're walking between worlds on their way home. And it’s bittersweet and strangely comforting to feel the omnipresence of someone you love after they've "gone."
Admittedly, the personal deaths were not as blissful. Those were fucking hard. And painful. And exhausting. And yet I still kept choosing the firewalk. Choosing to surrender whatever had reached its time. Releasing all that was ready to go.
As I walked blindly through this long, dark night, I realized that I didn’t really fear death—I came to befriend it.
I found that I was much more afraid of life.
It was more challenging for me to take the leap into the renewal of birth and creation and new life. To fully open to the strength of the light flowing through me. To accept my creative power and OWN IT. To unleash my wild woman and unveil my priestess and conjure my white witch. To live in my fullest expression. To choose myself.
So, as I arise from the ashes of my phoenix year, I am opening to renewal. I am willing to BE. I am coming back to life. And love is coming with me.